Later on this morning I’ll call my folks and let them know their loser of a daughter is about to lose her phone, so they’ll need to call one of the two cells if they want to get a hold of me. As part of my learning to accept the shitty hand the bastard in the sky (or whatever it is) is so determined to deal to me time and time again, I’m trying to focus on the good in losing the phone and not on how much it pisses me off to have to keep on losing this or giving up that. I would prefer to leave my computer on when I’m going to sleep when it’s light out and when the lights on the keyboard and the MJ’s power box can’t annoy me like they would at night. The phone could also ring and wake me up if the computer’s left on. And since things have to get more and more complicated with time, there’s no simple on/off switch for the ringer, and I can’t simply take it off the hook. But now I won’t have to worry about that for a while. The Magic Jack also has a delay in relay and an occasional echo.

I can’t believe I spent most of my childhood and some of my 20s dreaming of moving to California only to end up stuck here in my 40s and hating almost every minute of it. A part of me still wants to scream and cry at the thought of spending many more years or even the rest of my life in this dumpy little trailer. But I think the more we fix it up and make it our home instead of just Jesse’s old trailer, the less I’ll want to leave it after putting so much time into making all the changes. Unless you can buy it outright, it’s just not safe to own a house. One firing or layoff – just one – and you could lose that house or that nicer, more expensive rental in a heartbeat.

By throwing away my dream I then have no dreams to either not be able to achieve or to achieve and lose. Besides, there’s really nothing to “throw away” because it’s not up to me to begin with.

And so every time I long to be in a normal house with adequate space and newer features, I remind myself that it’s better than prison, jail, funny farms, concentration camps, apartments or the streets. It’s even better than an apartment building for old folks only. I’m not stupid. I know that if I lived in one of these places the person above us would have unruly grandkids visiting regularly, the person below us would be obsessed with slamming doors, and the person next to us would be so deaf they blast their TV. Yeah, I know how these things work.

Other than this thing that’s had an obsession with seeing that I’m stuck everywhere I don’t want to be and unable to stay where I do want to be since I was around 15 years old, the weather is improving. We had our last cold day a couple of days ago. Now it’s time to pull the comforter off and put the thin blanket on, though it’ll still be getting cold at night for a while. It won’t be until mid-June before we can have windows open all the time.

So the few trees around here that lose their leaves in the fall are sprouting new leaves and there are baby birds in the nest on the porch. And if they bring Tom a job, it will also be around the same time we can leave the windows open, but somehow I doubt he’ll get a job before most, if not all, of the summer is over.